The Dangerous Curves Series

Chapter 104

Naomi hesitated when she saw her mother’s number come up on her cell phone. Her first instinct – as always – was to avoid the call.

But one thing she’d learned over the past eight months was to face things head-on… most especially the things that she most wanted to duck away from. Her Mom topped that list, no doubt about it.

She grabbed her new eight-month sobriety chip from her purse and squeezed it, drawing strength. This one was red, and she thought that in some ways, it was the most hard-earned one yet. Seeing Matt three or four times a week when he dropped Callie and Noah off was wreaking havoc on her head and her heart.

He never stopped surprising her – in good ways. Despite what Reena and Mitch had told her about his man-whoring ways, she still longed to drop her guard with him, to flirt back just a little bit. Because dear God, the man flirted. He flirted like it was an Olympic event and he was going for the damn gold.

Amazingly, it was nothing sleazy or offensive. Instead he was engaged in a pretty unrelenting campaign of the good, old-fashioned approach of being sexy and charming as hell. He talked to her, he complimented her. He asked about the plans for expansion on the center, he offered some ideas. He made her laugh, he made her feel beautiful. And he confused her the whole f*****g time that he did so, since she knew it all meant less than nothing to Matt Kingston. She was just one more woman to pass the time with.

Pushing aside thoughts of Matt, Naomi picked up her phone. “Hi, Mom.”

“Naomi.” Yep, her Mom was slurring at nine o’clock in the morning, and Naomi gripped the chip tighter. “He cheated on me.”

She closed her eyes. “Bruce?”

“Yeah. The bastard f*****g cheated on me… I found out last night.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Mom. You doing OK?”

A loud bark of laughter made her move the phone away from her ear. “Are you f*****g serious? Of course I’m not OK! Didn’t you hear what I said? He cheated on me!”

“I know.”

“Yeah, the fuckers are all the same, baby girl… you remember that, OK? All men are the same – all cheaters. Your father, and every single guy I’ve known since then. Liars, cheaters, assholes.”

Naomi stayed silent in the face of this all-too-familiar diatribe. She could recite it by heart and word-for-word, God knows. She’d been listening to it since she was six years old.

“Your father.” Her mother’s voice was a hiss now, and Naomi braced herself for what was coming. “That f*****g piece of s**t. Stuck his pathetic little d**k in anything that moved, then up and abandoned me.”

Abandoned us, Mom.

“Cleaned out the bank account, took my mama’s jewelry, took my rings. Left me high-and-dry, with nothing but a mouth to feed.”

You mean me, Mom.

“Not a word since… and God knows, no money. Why do I keep trusting these bastards, baby girl? Why?”

“Are you at home?” Naomi asked, trying to refocus her.

“Nope.”

“You’re still at the bar?”

“Yep. Can you come and get me?”

Naomi dug deep for the courage to have the next phase of this conversation. Sure, there had been a time when she’d have rushed out of there like a bat out of hell, rescued her mother from whatever mess she’d landed herself in, paid her bar tab and offered apologies all around.

She’d have driven Mom home, fed her, plied her with aspirin and water, coaxed her into a shower and then into bed. She’d have spent hours listening to her mother rail against whatever the issue of the moment was – and whatever it was, it always ended with a rant about Naomi’s father – and she’d have emerged from it all shattered and stressed. Then she’d have gone to the bar herself, all ready to explode like a pressure cooker, and convinced herself that she deserved just onedrink. It was never just one drink.

Boundaries… you need to set them, you need to make sure you enforce them. It’s Mom’s choice to be drunk at nine a.m. – just like it’s your choice not to be. Not anymore. You can’t save her, and you can’t force her to see. All you can do is protect yourself, and your sobriety.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m at work and I can’t come get you.”

“What – you’re gonna just leave me here?”

“You got yourself there, you’ll get yourself home.”

“You goddamned ungrateful little w***e. After everything I put up with from you, you’re really gonna do this to me?”

Naomi flinched. After twenty-five years of it, she should be used to this part by now, but she wasn’t. The worst of it was that Mom would have no memory of the insults she had hurled; they would be Naomi’s alone to have to work through on the nights when sleep was elusive.

“I’m going now, Mom. Be safe. I love you.”

“You f*****g –”

Naomi disconnected, shaking and teary. It just never got better, never got easier.

This is one of the reasons that you drank, remember. To make these feelings go away, to hide from feeling so alone and unloved. But feeling those things isn’t going to kill you. It hurts like hell, but you can hurt badly and still draw breath. You’re strong enough to hurt and not medicate it away. Just let yourself hurt.

Naomi heard a knock at her office door and she looked up in horror. She quickly wiped her cheeks, slid her sobriety chip under a stack of papers, and sat up straight in her chair.

“Come in!” she called, trying to sound normal.

The door opened and there stood Matt. She almost crumpled at the sight of him, so large and solid and gorgeous in the morning sun.

She wanted to have him hold her, right now, to make her feel something other than unwanted and small. She was sure he’d take her in those arms if she asked him to.

OK. Time to put on the game face, girl. Hide it all from him.